Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word
by flashpenguin
Summary: After Em comes back to clean up after the BAU dinner at Dave's home, she tries to sneak out. Until Dave asks her to stay and have a drink. And talk. Rather innocent. Or is it? Post ep. May be multi chapter.
1. Chapter 1

_Just a quick post ep on my take after the kitchen scene. I am not sure if it's going to be heartfelt or fluff. I guess I will just have to write and see where Dave and Em take me. _

_Written for ilovetvalot._

_Quick disclaimer: Still don't own Criminal Minds._

**_Song prompt: "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" by Elton John_**

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

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_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

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**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

Dave closed the front door and leaned against it. Letting out his breath, he closed his eyes. It had been a long night and he was exhausted. But in a good way. The team had been brought together to bury the hatchet and what better way than over food and drink? And of course, an impromptu cooking lesson.

Very few people had ever been brought into his sanctuary…not even his ex-wives had been allowed to do anything other than the most mundane of tasks. The kitchen, his study, and the backyard - those were his domain. Those were the things he could do with his hands and his mind and be productive. He didn't ask for much, and if that made him a fussy, anal retentive neat freak…well, it could be worse. Hell, he had been called worse by his ex-wives.

Mudgie bumped his head against Dave's thigh and whined pathetically.

"What's wrong, boy?" Dave asked and rubbed the black Lab's head lovingly. Mudgie whined again.

"Yeah, I saw Garcia slipping you treats under the table. And I'm sure that half of JJ's dessert landed in your stomach." The dog looked away guiltily. "Don't worry about it; it was a good night and you deserved to be spoilt by beautiful women."

Dave walked to the back of the house. Mudgie excitedly followed him. Opening the back door in the laundry room, he let the dog out. "Stay near the house. No chasing opossums." Mudgie whined his distress. "I mean it. Leave the critters alone," Dave warned. The dog bounded off happily. He stood and watched the dog bound around the yard happily.

The sound of the doorbell made him jump. It was getting late and he wasn't expecting anyone. Hurrying to the foyer, he unlatched the deadbolt and chain. Pulling the heavy oak door open, he blinked to see Emily standing on the porch.

"Prentiss. What are you doing here?" he asked casually. His eyes took in the brunette from head to toe though he had just seen her less than fifteen minutes earlier.

Em tossed her hair back from her face. "I was on my way home when I remembered my manners."

"What do you mean?" Dave continued to block the doorway.

"You cooked for all of us and we left you to clean up the mess. I came back to help."

"You don't have to; that is why I have a dishwasher and housekeeper."

Em snorted softly. "After what we did tonight, you are actually going to leave that mess for your housekeeper? Are you going to pay her double?"

"She gets paid well enough and this isn't the first party I've had here," Dave replied back with his own snort.

"It's the first with the BAU," Em replied. She held Dave's gaze without backing down. "So, are you?"

"Am I what?" Dave returned.

"Are you going to let me in to help clean up? Or do I need to call the team back?"

A small smile tugged at Dave's mouth. Slowly he stepped aside. "Come in," he replied and gestured with his hand for her to enter.

Pulling her coat tighter, Em walked carefully into the foyer. Her ears listened carefully for any other noises in the too quiet house. She nearly jumped as Dave's hands tugged on her coat.

"Let me take that for you," he suggested.

"Thanks." She shrugged out of the coat and didn't wait to watch him hang it up in the closet before making her way into the kitchen. Yanking open drawers, she searched until she found an apron. Quickly tying it around her waist, she began stacking the numerous dishes, then turned on the tap to fill the sink with hot water and soap.

Finding a rhythm, Em set to washing and rinsing.

"I do have a dishwasher that can make that easier," Dave commented from the doorway.

"I don't mind," Em replied never turning her head.

"It wouldn't be any trouble to stack everything and turn it on."

"I like the water on my hands." Slowly, she rinsed the large frying pan, taking her time.

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do."

"May I help?" Dave asked.

"No. I have it under control." She set the pan in the dishwasher.

Dave raised his eyebrow. "That goes…"

Em turned to look at him. "Really, I have it under control. You made dinner, so I can help clean up."

"Emily…"

She took a deep breath. "I'll be done in a few minutes, I promise. Then you can have your kitchen back."

Dave started to speak, then thought better of it. "I'll be in the study."  
>*****<p>

Em wiped down the counters, the stove, and the sink. Turning off the tap, she wrung out the cloth and threw it in the laundry room.

Taking a quick look around the spotless room, she turned out the light and headed down the short hall toward the main room. Tiptoeing past the study, she listened for any sound. She breathed a sigh of relief when her ears picked up the sound of silence.

"Thank goodness he's gone to bed," she whispered to herself. It had been a long night with the team getting together at Dave's for an impromptu cooking lesson and dinner. And though there seemed to be no hard feelings for the deception that had been committed, there was no denying the tension between her co-workers.

Em shook her head slightly as she remembered the look of surprise and anger on the faces of the team she had come to love as her own brothers and sisters. She wouldn't have blamed them for turning their back on her. Lord knew that she probably would do the same if she could. But it was the one remark that haunted her.

"Come on, Em," she chided to herself. "Did you really think it was going to be forgive and forget? No one compartmentalizes like you do, Hell, not even Rossi can compartmentalize like you can."

But she had done her duty tonight by being pleasant and then cleaning up. Now she had to leave. The lights were off in the main room, she was going to have a hard time finding her coat.

"I heard that," came the low voice from the dark. The slight sound of a match striking followed.

Pressing her hand over her heart, Em spun around. Her eyes tried to adjust to the dark room. It was then she realized that there was a fire in the fireplace.

"Rossi! You scared the hell out of me!"

"I don't mind that you kicked me out of my kitchen to clean it up, but to sneak off without saying good-bye is rather rude, wouldn't you say?" he stated and took a puff of his cigar. The red end glowed bright as he inhaled.

"I thought you were asleep," Em commented stupidly.

"It would have been bad manners to let you go without saying thank you," he answered.

Em crossed her arms over her chest. "I really should go."

"Don't run off so fast. Sit down and have a drink. After all you deserve it for all your hard work," he commented evenly.

Em blinked hard. Was that sarcasm in his tone?

"I don't think…" she began.

"Stop thinking. Sit your ass down and have the drink," Dave stated in a tone reserved only for those who dared to push him.

"That's an order."


	2. Chapter 2

_**For Graveygraves. Hope you like it and it's what you were expecting.**_

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

Em hesitated for a long moment. She could run - try to make a break for it - honestly, what were the odds of him catching her? And though her body was propelling forward, her feet were stuck to the floor. She had to stay and face the moment of truth. After all they had been through, she owed him that much. Didn't she?

"Sit!" Dave's tone was a bit more forceful that usual. Though a part of her wanted to disobey, the logical part warned her that it might be best to heed his words. Trudging slowly to the couch, Em sat down.

"Now, was that so hard?" Dave asked sarcastically. He handed her the glass of scotch. "Drink," he ordered.

As the fight left her body, Em raised the glass to her lips and sipped the potent liquid. Strong and fiery, it burned a path down her throat. But she dared not cough - that would be a sign of weakness. Swallowing hard, she placed the glass on the table.

For a long moment, neither person spoke as the fire crackled loudly. The air was heavy with anticipation as Em waited for the other shoe to drop. Dave Rossi had ordered her to stay, so he wanted something. Twice she opened her mouth to start speaking, but the words never came. She wanted to tell him everything, but how? There was nothing she could say that could erase the past year. There was no excuse to wipe away the pain and hurt she had caused everyone. She had - in all essence - fucked up.

Dave puffed on his cigar as he watched Em's reaction by the soft glow of the fire. He saw the conflict dance across her delicate features as she willed her body to stay and accept his judgment. Her face was not as delicate as he remembered. There were the little lines in the corner of her eyes, and the black circles under her eyes caused by fatigue, regret, and loss. The smile he remembered so well was still there but it no longer reached her eyes. The dancing light that used to make her eyes snap was gone. What the hell had she gone thru in the year she was gone? He was dying to know.

"Why did you come back?" he asked matter of fact.

Em hesitated. It was a double meaning question. She had come back to the BAU and she had come back to his place. She had had a reason for both. Which one did she dare give when chances were he wouldn't believe either one.

"I had to."

"You _had_ to or you _wanted_ to?" Dave puffed on his cigar.

"Does it matter?" She shrugged.

"Yes."

"I had an obligation to help out," Em replied carefully.

"And this….what you did tonight by coming back? Was that an obligation?"

"It was the least I could do since…." Em reached for her glass and took a big gulp. She wasn't going to be able to drive but it was obvious that Rossi had had that in mind when he handed her the drink. "You went out of your way to accommodate us and invite us into your home, and I thought I could pay you back."

"Cleaning my kitchen was due to a guilty conscience?" Dave raised his eyebrow mockingly.

"No." Em bit her lip. "Maybe."

"I thought so. So, why didn't you just leave? Why not get in your car and go home?"

"I couldn't."

Dave watched her for a long moment.

"What happened while you were gone?"

Em blinked back the sudden rush of tears. "Nothing," she responded in a tight voice. She wouldn't cry in front of him. Not now. Not ever.

"You were on the run for nearly a year with no contact other than JJ and Hotch. You were by yourself...alone," Dave observed. His tone held an edge but it was softer.

"It is what it is." Em shrugged again, but this time she didn't meet Dave's eyes.

"Maybe to you. But it was hell for us."

Em tried to find an answer that wouldn't come.

"Do you know what it was like for us thinking you were dead?" Dave continued in a low tone. He was accusing and he was angry. But he was trying to hold on to his temper. "Your 'death' nearly destroyed the team. This scotch you're drinking….I went thru three bottles trying to find solace. Who knew that the answer I needed to my questions was in the office next to mine?"

"Don't blame Hotch," Em replied defensively.

"Should I blame you?"

"Why not? I brought Doyle into your lives."

"Yes you did," he agreed.

"And I put you all in danger," Em's voice quavered ever so noticeably.

"I can't argue with that."

"I wasn't honest with you….with the team," she amended quickly. "I wasn't as forthcoming as I could have been."

Dave cocked his head. "No shit, Emily. Which part of everything that happened do you think that applies to?"

"If I could go back and change one thing…"

"You wouldn't change anything. You'd do it over the same way," Dave corrected. "Maybe you might have left sooner and hidden."

"But that wouldn't have taken the target off your backs."

"It's been my experience that wishing to change everything is fruitless. Or could this be an easing of your conscience as I mentioned earlier?"

"I…." Em started. She wanted to run as fast and as far as she could. Nothing was going as she had dreamt. In fact, the opposite - everything she had feared - was coming true.

"I know what you told the team, but I want to hear the truth. What happened while you were gone?"

Em extended her glass toward Dave. "Could I have some more? Please?" If she was going to confront her future by coming clean about her past, she was doing it totally drunk off her ass.

Leaning forward, Dave raised the bottle and poured it carefully into Em's glass. Topping off his own, he set the bottle down with a thud. Raising his glass to his lips, he waited for Emily Prentiss's story of why she ran, and why she came back.


	3. Chapter 3

_**For Micheaela**_

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

Sipping her scotch slowly, Em tried to form her thoughts into words. Dave had finally done what none of the rest of the team had - putting her on the spot and asking for an explanation. _No,_ she thought bitterly, _demanding is more like it._

She just had to figure out where to start.

The crackling of the fire filled the room as the occupants sat in silence. The clicking of Mudgie's nails on the hardwood floor sounded as he walked over to Em and laid his head down in her lap. Forcing a smile, she patted his head. He gave her a whine as though telling her that he understood and everything was going to be alright.

With a sigh, the black Lab pulled back, turned around, and went over to his bed by the fireplace. Turning three times, he fell on to the plush cushion with a heavy thump. His eyes darted from Dave to Em and back again.

"I don't think you want to know what happened in the year I was gone," Em spoke softly from the couch.

"If I didn't want to know," Dave replied carefully, "I wouldn't have asked. I would have ordered you out of here when you came back."

"Why can't we just call it a day, leave it in the past, and move on?" Em asked.

"Because you owe me. For all those nights I cried myself to sleep and fought against the nightmares of seeing you in Morgan's arms dying from a wound I couldn't prevent. You owe me for all the nights I poured my soul out in Church."

"I…" Em started then stopped. She wanted to say that one simple word to make things better, but it wouldn't come.

Dave held up his hand. "Don't say it," he warned. "Not unless you mean it."

"I…I wasn't."

"Bullshit. You want to. You think that if you say it, it will wipe out everything and wrap it all up in fancy paper with a bow. I don't want fancy paper and a bow, Emily, I want the truth. What happened? Why did you run when you could have told the truth?"

"Because you would have forced me to stay!" Em flared angrily. "You would have tried to persuade me to stay with the team or here where you could protect me! And you wouldn't have been able to; no one could have!"

"Because you didn't give us a chance! You took it upon yourself to go renegade and try to take on a terrorist!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"We all have _choices, _Emily. Some are right, some are wrong…some go by the wayside….but we all have choices! My choice would have been to help you. Your choice was to run."

"That's not fair, Dave."

Dave's eyes widened with surprise. "Fair? You want to talk about fair? Was it fair that I was haunted by visions of you every night for months? Was it fair that the team got to see me break down and sob like a child when JJ announced that you didn't make it off the table? Was it fair that I never got the chance to tell you how I felt?" he threw back at her.

"I had to do it!"

"At what price, Emily? Your honour? Our trust? The reputation of the FBI?" he replied sarcastically.

"Don't guilt me more than I feel." Em took another gulp of her scotch.

"Guilt you? I don't think you've had enough guilt! You waltzed back into the FBI as though seven months were seven minutes and we were supposed to forgive you."

"I saved your lives!"

"You _destroyed_ our lives!" Dave roared and stood up. "The team was fractured in a way it never had been. It survived Elle and Jason. It survived Reid and Hotch - although it was cracked - but YOU fractured it with your inability to trust and your desire to hide the truth about your past!"

"You've had your secrets too! Your driving a man to his grave with doubts about his wife's fidelity and the cold case you shut us out of…you're not spotless!" Em returned just as angrily.

"I never denied who I am. I never lied and put my friends' lives in jeopardy! I never hid the truth that resulted in the unnecessary deaths of countless people because I stole the son of a terrorist!" Dave shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Unused to level of anger, Mudgie quickly moved from the bed and ran up the stairs.

Swallowing hard, Em set her glass down on the coffee table. Standing up, she thanked the darkness for hiding her shaking legs.

"I think we've said all we can tonight," she stated quietly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Coming here was a bad idea. I think I need to go."

"The hell you're going to walk out that door before we've finished this discussion!"

"Discussion?" Em snorted. "Mudgie ran upstairs."

"He'll get over it. You're not leaving until you talk to me."

Em shook her head. "There is nothing to talk about. You hate me. The team hates me. And I…I hate myself."

"I don't hate you, Emily."

"Right."

"Now that's priceless. A liar calling me a liar."

"I'm out of here!" Em tried to keep her balance as she made her way to the door.

"You can't drive," Dave called out. "At least not legally. Unless you want to tack on a DUI to the long list that's already following you."

Em's hand froze on the door handle. He had set her up good. There was no way she could drive home after consuming what she had. And there was no way she could sleep it off in the car. She was stuck.

Closing her eyes, she emitted a prayer for strength. Then she turned around to face Dave.

"Okay. You win. I'll stay." Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Slowly, she walked over to the couch and sat down. Her sobs filled the quiet.

Dave's lips twitched as the minutes passed by slowly.

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?" he asked.

A sniffle was Em's only response.

"Good," Dave replied dispassionately. "Now answer my question: what happened to you while you were gone?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

"_Now answer my question: what happened to you while you were gone?"_

"Hell." Em sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Hell is what happened to me while I was gone."

Dave sat down on the edge of the couch. "What do you mean?"

Em shook her head. "Just that. I was by myself…all alone in Paris trying to recover from a severe injury. I had no friends or family to rely on. It was just me. I couldn't contact my mother or father. I had a contact number for JJ or Hotch when I needed to talk to them, but it was for emergency use only."

"You had my number," he reminded her. "You could have contacted me."

Em's eyes flashed for a moment, then the flame went out. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "And said what to you? 'Hi, Dave, it's the ghost from your past calling to let you know that I'm alive.' I couldn't do that."

"You could have," he insisted firmly.

"I _couldn't_," she retuned just as firmly. "There was such intense scrutiny the weeks after I died, all of the team's moves were being watched. Every move. Every step. Every phone call was being tracked and traced."

"No one but Hotch, JJ, Strauss and a couple higher ups were in the know, so who….?"

"Doyle," Em finished.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded her head affirmatively. "Yes. One good thing about being underground was that I had more access to his movements. I knew that he was hiding out somewhere in the east coast. But he was also watching the team to see if they had pulled a fast one on him. Everyone had to believe that I was dead."

"Your plan worked."

"It wasn't my plan," she corrected. "I didn't have a say in anything. I was in a coma for six weeks while I lingered between life and death. I barely remember anything that was happening. There were papers and negotiations being made, but I was too out of it to wonder how it was going to affect me. By the time I knew what was happening, I was given three new identities and whisked off the continent."

"You are blaming Hotch and JJ for your deception?" Dave asked.

"Don't you? Derek does. And after that look Reid gave to JJ tonight, I know that he blames them."

"Honestly, we blame ourselves for not being able to see the signs earlier."

Em rolled her eyes and gave a slight snort. "Dave Rossi. The Teflon FBI agent. Nothing sticks to you. Grudges. Revenge. Affairs. You mean to tell me that you never once blamed anyone for what happened that night?"

"If you have to know, I blamed myself. I told Derek not to make it personal because you had crossed the line with Doyle, but I was trying to convince myself that what you did, you had to."

"You think I would purposely sleep with a terrorist other than to gather information?" Em sputtered.

"The Emily Prentiss I used to know probably wouldn't have done that now. But the Emily Prentiss before she arrived at the BAU….I don't know," Dave admitted.

"I see how you have such faith in me," she replied with a sardonic chuckle. "After what we shared."

"When we were sleeping together, I would have said no, that you were only following orders. But we stopped sleeping together after the LA case. Now I wonder."

"It's something I'm not proud of, Dave. I was under orders to do anything to get the information. And that meant sleeping with a man who made my stomach turn every time I looked in his eyes."

"Yet, you took his ring."

"I had to. I didn't love him. Every time I looked down at my hand, it was all I could do not to vomit. I would have booked ten minutes after he suggested that we go to bed the night we first met, but I was under orders from the CIA. I was supposed to be loose woman looking for a man of power and wealth to fulfill my needs. I kept reminding myself that it was just a job," Em whispered. "I was supposed to be a diversion, and they needed more information on his contacts in Russia."

"You don't speak Russian," he remarked dryly.

"I understand it…better than I gave myself credit. I had to remember it word for word and then pass it on. I was nervous that my cover would be blown and I would be shot in my sleep. But every day that passed without a bullet was one step closer to bringing Doyle down…"

"What happened?" Dave interrupted. "How did you go from being the love of his life to the most wanted woman in his life?"

"My cover was blown. There was a mole in the CIA." Em reached over and poured a finger of scotch into her empty glass. "Go figure that there a turncoat in the CIA." She sipped the liquid that was gently soothing her.

"Is that when Doyle knew about you?" Dave leaned forward just a bit. He was intrigued.

"No. I had been whisked away by Interpol for 'questioning'. At that same time, they had detained Doyle and demanded to know who his contacts were. They were pretty sure they had enough to hold him. I was allowed to go back and take Declyn and put him in protective custody."

"That is when you staged his 'death'?"

Em nodded grimly. "Yes. They hoped that when Doyle learned that Declyn had been abducted by his 'rivals' he would break and tell them what they needed to know."

"But it didn't turn out that way," Dave concluded.

"It was too good and too perfect." Em sipped again. "And too easy. That's when I should have known that something was amiss."

"Who was the mole?"

"Does it matter?" Em wrapped an arm across her chest to ward off the sudden chill in the room.

"He almost killed you twice," Dave returned angrily. "I think I have the right to know who betrayed your confidence. Was it that rat Doyle gunned down on the roof?"

Em considered lying, but thought better of it. "It wasn't him."

"Who was it?"

"No one you would know, Dave. He was a no one. In fact, you could put his name in the database and nothing would pop up on him. He was a low level thug who wanted to play 'double agent' and get paid for it. He was in it for the money. He didn't give a damn who got killed or lost as long as he won in the end." Em brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. "He won alright - a bullet between the eyes."

"Delivered by Ian Doyle, I presume?"

Em gave a small smile. "You presume correctly. When he told Doyle that Declyn had been murdered, Doyle didn't spill what he knew, he paid one of the guards to get him out of the jail house. He broke out and headed toward the villa. But we weren't there. We were already on our way to England. He went to China to meet with a contact."

"I thought Doyle spent seven years in a prison in Korea?" Dave wondered. His brows knitted together.

"He had heard that there was a sighting of someone looking like me in London, so he headed out that way, but they captured him at the Korean border. I already had Declyn settled here in the States under an assumed name. Once he was settled, I went to the field office in Chicago. And the rest is history." She placed her glass on the coffee table and leaned back in her chair.

"Not quite. Let me get this straight: you went to Chicago, Declyn was in Boston, and Doyle was in a prison somewhere in Korea. And it was during that time he found out that you were still alive?"

"I didn't know that my cover had been blown. I tried to keep tabs on everything, but life happened. The BAU happened. Events more important than Doyle were happening to my family. It was during Foyet that I got word that the turncoat had been executed, but Doyle was still in prison. I didn't put the pieces together, but I should have."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked with deep concern in his voice.

"He was the reason Doyle broke out of prison. He told Doyle that I was still alive."

Neither person spoke for a long while.

"I'm glad he's dead," Dave said evenly. Em didn't need to ask which man Dave was talking about.

The shadows in the room slowly expanded as the fire started to die down. The low flames leant an eerie glow to an already eerie moment.

"So," Em's voice broke the silence. "When are you going to ask me the big question that's really weighing on your mind?"

"Which is?" Dave returned smoothly.

"Did I love Doyle?"


	5. Chapter 5

_I debated posting this chapter because I felt that there was something missing. But when I looked it over, I realized that I really like the way Dave sounds. Honestly, when I was writing it, I could see JM's facial expressions and hear his voice in my head. So, I'm going to go ahead and post it._

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

"I know you don't," Dave replied.

"Profiling me?" Em asked dryly.

"What can I say? It's a habit of mine." Dave leaned forward to look Em in the eyes. "I know you don't, because you called him by his last name."

She gave a slight snort. "So, you discovered all of that just by the way I don't say someone's name?"

Dave shrugged. "You went to great lengths to protect the people you love. I doubt that you would do that for a man you love. You faked your death and could have stayed hidden, but you risked everything to come out into the open to settle a score. If you loved anyone, it would have been that little boy."

Em blinked quickly to keep the sudden rush of tears at bay. "I failed him."

Dave looked at her in bewilderment. "How do you figure?"

"Louise is dead. And so are two federal agents," she whispered. "They were murdered because I wouldn't tell where Declyn was."

"They were murdered because a woman bent on revenge wanted to use him to get back at the man who had tortured her and stolen her son."

"But you saw the way he looked at me when he got on the plane…" Em closed her eyes as the memory of her last meeting with Declyn flashed. He had smiled at her and given her a hug, but there was something lost in his eyes. "It was as though he…he blamed me."

"I don't think he did. He's confused. When the time is right, things will be explained and he will understand," Dave replied.

"Will he? He watched us shoot and kill his mother and father right before his eyes! How do you explain that and make it understandable?" Em shot back.

Dave shook his head. "There's more than enough information out there for him to discover who his parents really were," he returned softly. "He will make the decision to follow the path that his parents did or the one that you and Louise and his foster parents set him on."

"But…" Em began.

"You were there during the formative years - the ones that matter most to a child. You were his mother and you taught him right from wrong. He will have you to thank in the end."

Em digested his words. So much of what he had said was true, but there was that doubt deep down inside. Declyn…the team…Dave. She could make a fresh start with each one, but would it be enough?

"You wonder if coming back was the wise thing to do?" Dave's voice broke through her thoughts.

"The team hates me."

"The team doesn't hate you. JJ and Hotch don't hold it against you. Penelope is happy to have her sister back - although she did grow attached to your cat. How is the custody arrangements working out?" he smiled.

"She has him on weekends and when we're out of town."

"So, that's three people who don't hate you."

"Derek and Spencer? You saw the way they acted tonight. I think they wished I was still dead," Em reluctantly added. She didn't want to believe her friends felt that way, but she wouldn't blame them. How could she?

"They are hurt. I would say 'put yourself in their shoes', but you have. I can see that you have by your actions. By the way you hold yourself back. In time, they will accept you."

"But it won't be the same."

"Things change. It's the way of life. You move on, and if you're lucky, you grow from it." Dave studied her face by the fading light. "Was Doyle the reason you broke up with me?"

"Yes," she confessed. "I had heard something in the grapevine, and even though I couldn't confirm it without raising attention at the FBI or CIA, I knew that if it was true, I was going to have to start cutting ties."

"And that included us."

Em snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, my mother and father and grandmother were in there too. I had to make up a lie and start a fight the way the old Emily would have when she threw a temper tantrum and stopped talking to people." She looked away in shame. "They were so used to my mood swings growing up that they didn't think twice about me hanging up on them and not answering."

"You did what you had to do." Dave's tone was neither accusatory nor gentle.

She took a shuddered breath and tried to ease the pain in her chest. "I did what I had to do," she repeated. "But that doesn't make me feel any better."

"Have you talked to your family since being resurrected?"

"Mother and Daddy…understand. They stopped short of inviting me to Thanksgiving."

Dave gave her a crooked grin. "There is always Christmas if they can't get over it by Thanksgiving."

"Guess it's me and Sergei," she joked weakly. She eyes the bottle on the coffee table and wondered if she could dive into it. The pain medications she had been on and her recuperation had weakened her so that she didn't dare have any alcohol. The wine tonight had been her first sip of liquor in almost a year. She thought her taste for any alcohol was dead along with her past, but that bottle was just calling to her. All she had to do was reach out and take it…

"Which leaves the question…" Dave's low voice startled her out of her reverie.

"Where does that leave us," she finished.

"Is there an 'us'?" he asked softly. "Anymore?" He held his breath as he waited for her answer. He remembered holding her as they made love - the feel of her lithe body pressed against his as he filled her - the way he called out her name. But that had been so long ago. More than a year had passed since he had touched her. What he would give to reach out and touch her once more. He could give the rest of his life for one more night.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "Do you want an 'us'?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Dave has thrown the gauntlet down for Em to either put up or shut up. What will Em decide? Will Dave be strong enough to accept it? And yes, I found a way to work the song in but not like you would expect._

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

"Would it be too much for me to say 'yes, I would'?" Dave wondered. There was a part of him that wanted to tread carefully, but then again, he was after all, David Rossi, and treading carefully wasn't in his playbook.

Em tried to think of a witty comeback or throw herself in his arms. But not now. Not when too much had passed between them. "I don't think so." She shook her head sadly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Where to start…?"

Dave shrugged indifferently. "Why do you have to start? One good reason can be just as good as a dozen crappy ones. So let me hear it."

Em rubbed a hand over her weary eyes. She was so tired and the night hadn't turned out like she had hoped. She still wasn't sober enough to drive, but staying was breaking her down. Jumping up from the couch, she paced the floor.

"I know that pace," he observed, "it means you're trying to come up with a smart answer that will make me back off."

"Quit profiling me, Dave. Please." Em rubbed her hands over her arms to ward off the chill of the room.

"Then be honest with me."

"I have…all night."

"Except for the one thing I need to know. Is there an us anymore?" He watched Em pace like a caged animal looking for escape. Maybe he had gone over board keeping her when she wanted to leave. Maybe he should have let her go instead of filling her up with liquor and making her talk.

As the seconds turned into minutes, he realized that she wasn't pacing to free herself from him, but from the truth she was trying to hide. God, he wished the fire hadn't died out so he could read her face. He was tempted to turn on a lamp, but if he wanted to live to see the holidays, he would stay put.

"No matter what I say, it can't take back what has happened." Her voice was so hollow. So full of regret. "No matter what I say, it won't bring back all the hurt I caused you by failing to trust you."

"No it won't," he agreed. "But I don't want to go back."

"People say that all the time," her voice quavered, "but what does it mean? Humans live in the past. We have our regrets, our loves, our losses…and we spend our lives wishing for that second chance. We dream about what we would do if that second or third chance fell into our laps." She stopped pacing. She wanted to stop speaking but the damn had broken.

"I prayed for that second chance to go back and make it up to all of you. Especially you, Dave. I hurt you so badly. I should have known better because of what you had gone thru with most of your relationships. I made you a promise after Matthew died that I would open up and learn to trust. I lied."

A long pause weighed heavily between the pair.

"You put your faith in me, Dave, and I betrayed you. So, to answer your question: I don't know." Her voice was choked by the tears that clogged her throat. "Thank you for the party, and understanding my reasons for being a coward. I remember what we had, - every day it haunts me - but honestly…I don't think you could love me anymore." She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I…I have to go."

Blindly she headed out of the dark room. Once she got out to the car, she could call JJ to come and get her. But she had to get out of the house. Fast.

Reaching for her purse, she tried to locate her keys, but came up short. She would worry about it when she got outside and could gather herself. Making her way to the foyer, she reached out for her coat and slipped it on. Hand on the knob, she paused. Was that music?

Em turned around, her ears tuned in to the song. She knew that song but she couldn't put her finger on it. _Where had she heard that song before?_ Inching her way toward the study, she held her breath outside the doorway.

"_What do I gotta do to make you love me?" _Dave sang. _"What do I gotta do to be heard? What do I do when lightning strikes me?" _His hands softly floated over the piano keys. _"Sorry seems to be the hardest word."_

He remembered! Em thought as tears broke free finally to course down her cheeks. Her mind flashed back to when she was fifteen and alone in her private dorm room. It had been a Saturday night and everyone on the floor was gathered down the hall eating pizza and watching the newest Tom Cruise movie. She had no friends and had just committed the biggest sin of her life. Never had she wanted her mother more than that moment. But the Ambassador was far away somewhere on one of her many trips.

The laughter and sounds of friendship was too much for her guilty conscience to handle, so she turned on the radio. She needed a taste of home. Maybe it hadn't been the best song to hear at that moment, but it said everything her heart was shouting. As the words filled the empty space, she wept her heartbreak. It took over twenty years, but she had finally confided her secret to Dave one night.

And now he was singing it to her. Dave didn't have the best voice, but it was haunting enough to pierce her heart. Turning around, Em walked back to the study and stood in the doorway. She listened as each and every note propelled her feet forward to the piano. Finally the song came to an end. A heavy, sad silence filled the air. Reaching out, she laid a hand on Dave's shoulder.

"Don't leave me again," Dave said. He stood up and faced her. "You ran once because you didn't trust me. Trust me enough to stay and work this out."

"Dave…" Em tried to say more, but her voice couldn't get the words out.

Cupping her face in his hands, he looked deep into Em's eyes. "Trust me."

"Yes." Simple but it said everything. Dave barely heard the word before he crushed her lips with his. Hungrily he drank as though his life depended on her saving him. And in a way it did. He had been so lost and lonely those seven months she was presumed dead. Hell, he had been lost longer than that since she had begun to pull away after L.A. But there was no more running. Em was alive and finally back in his arms.

Em didn't even try to resist as Dave kissed her senseless. She had dreamt of his lips on hers too many nights to count. And her body had longed desperately for his touch on the nights when she was curled up in some hotel hiding from people who wanted her dead. Now she was back in Dave's arms and she was safe.

There was nothing between them anymore. The past was finally buried and they were back where they belonged. Frantically their hands fumbled as they tried to undo buttons to get closer.

Pulling her mouth from his, Em drew in much needed air. "Bedroom," she gasped. Dave didn't wait for her to change her mind as he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her up the stairs to his bed. No, he corrected as he laid her on the mattress, it was _their_ bed.

Fighting down the urge to rip her clothes off and take her, Dave slowly undressed Em. His lips kissed the creamy white flesh that was exposed with each button release. It was torture but he wanted to take his time and make it last as long as he could. Em was real and her moans were like music to his ears, but nights were for dreams and he could wake up tomorrow and find that she had been a figment of his imagination.

Em couldn't think as Dave's hands and mouth made love to her. Arching her back, she tried to help as he unbuttoned and removed her slacks. She wanted him. No, she corrected, she needed him. She needed to feel his touch and know that he was real and he would protect her. She couldn't leave as long as he held her.

That's all that mattered at the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

_I've been accused of "profiling" an ep to the point where I notice little things that most overlook. In the whole time Dave has been with the team, he has only touched Em twice: when they shook hands in "About Face" and when he put his hand on the small of her back in "Minimal Loss". The third time was when he helped her out of the ditch in the military school ep. I wanted to work that in. Some how it fit this story. _

_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed._

**Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word**

Pushing her blouse away, Dave drew in his breath as he took in Em's breasts. Twin perfect globes that he couldn't resist kissing. His fingers expertly released the front clasp of her bra to free them. With a hungry groan, he took a rosy peak in his mouth and loved it as his hands stroked and kneaded her. He wanted to drive her crazy. And from her gasps and moans, he was succeeding. But he wanted to hear her scream his name. While his mouth stayed focused on her breasts, his hand snaked down to the vee between her thighs and stroked her.

Gentle at first, he teased the pink nub of her desire thru the thin satin of her panties. So wet, he nearly wept as she arched and undulated her hips to match his rhythm. Faster he drove her to the brink and relished in her sobs of ecstasy as he felt her body thrash and tighten until it finally released.

Crashing to earth, Em tried to catch her breath. Dave had been one of the few men who had ever taken her to the brink but even this was something new for her. Her body craved more and arched as it searched for his touch when he pulled away.

"Dave…" she gasped breathlessly.

Dave put a finger to her lips and smiled. "Shh, Tesoro, I'm not leaving," he replied as he began undressing to join her on the bed. He needed to be with her. He needed to be one with her. Placing his jeans on the chair, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and drew them down. He relished in Em's gasp of pleasure.

If Em had had any doubts about Dave wanting her, it was laid to rest when he undressed. Proud and magnificent, he stood erect - the evidence of his desire apparent.

"I want to make love to you Em," he told her as his hand stroked then cupped her cheek. "I want you to make love to me."

Swallowing hard, Em nodded. Reaching out, she took him in her hand, relishing in the heavy weight of his erection. She smiled at his sharp intake of breath. It may have been a year since they last touched, but she still remembered what turned him on. From the sound of his moan, she remembered correctly.

"Em, sweetheart, you're gonna kill me," Dave moaned as her hand knowingly stroked him.

"If that happens, I'll bring you back to life," she promised. "Lay down. Let me love you." She looked up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

Lying down on the mattress, Dave settled in and that was his last conscious thought as Em loved him in ways he had only dreamt about over the past year. His body thrust upward as she set the pace with her hands and mouth. No matter how it ended he wouldn't regret giving her the reins to do as she pleased.

Faster she stroked him until he thought he was going to lose his mind. And just when he thought he was ready for anything, she knelt over him and took him deep inside her hot, tight core. And then his world exploded.

Em had imagined and dreamt of what it would be like if she could ever make love to Dave again, but nothing could prepare her for it. As she encased his long, hard length, she felt him part and fill her inch by delicious inch until they were completely one again.

Pausing to catch her breath, she looked into Dave's eyes - so full of desire and want for her. Leaning down, she covered his mouth with hers for a hot, wet kiss as her body set the rhythm and dared him to keep up.

Dave intertwined his fingers with Em's and held on as his body thrust to match her. Together they urged each other toward that precipice of no return. Each thrust, each kiss, each cry only propelled them and sealed the promise that their bodies were making to one another.

Meeting Em halfway, Dave used that moment to roll Em under him. Settled between her thighs, he pushed himself up on his elbows and buried himself deep inside of her. Holding the moment, he watched her face before thrusting again. He watched as her eyes closed from the first wave of a powerful orgasm took hold and pushed her over the edge.

Holding on tight, Em called out Dave's name as her body tightened like a coiled spring, then released with such force it left her sobbing his name. Carefully he kissed her tears away as her body began to relax. Then he thrust again. Each thrust was faster than the last as he forced her once more to the edge. Only this time, she was ready for him.

Wrapping her legs around his, Em kept him right where she wanted as she took control and set the pace. As her hips rose and fell, Dave felt his body begin to give in. He kept telling himself that it was too soon and that he needed more time to drive her crazy, to make up for all the nights he had to use a memory to find the release he was having now.

But he could tell from the way she panted his name breathlessly, that this night would happen again. And since there was no work the next day, it could happen sooner rather than later. Thrusting faster, Dave felt his body tighten, tighten, and just when he thought he couldn't hold on a moment longer, Em cupped his buttocks and pulled him deeper inside than he thought possible just as her second orgasm wrapped around him like a velvet glove to hold him tight. With a groan, he gave up and spilled his seed deep inside of her.

And together they went over the precipice.  
>*********<p>

Exhausted and spent, Dave lay with his eyes closed, stroking Em's soft hair as she cuddled up against him. For a long while only their heavy breathing had filled the room. Now they were surrounded by golden silence and a sense of completion they had never experienced.

"If I couldn't hear your heart beat, I would wonder if you were still alive," Em chided softly.

"I'm not worried since you promised to resurrect me," Dave returned. He could lie there for the rest of his life with Em in his arms. "On the other hand, if I died right now, I would go happily since you're in my arms," he added. The moment the words were out, he kicked himself. "I'm sorry, Em."

Em raised herself up to look at him. "I know what you meant." Brushing the hair back from Dave's forehead, Em drank in his handsome features. For so long she had had only memories and dreams and now he was real. She could never get enough of looking at him.

"Where do we go from here?" she asked hesitantly.

"Forward. No looking back." Dave cupped Em's cheek in his palm and relished as she nuzzled against him. "We have spent too much time running from what scares us. Our ghosts are gone. This is our second chance."

Turning her face into his palm, Em kissed it. "What about work? No one wants to team up with me."

"I do."

Em shook her head. "People will suspect."

"Did they suspect before L.A.?" Dave inquired in a serious tone

"Well…no. But things changed while I was gone…" she protested.

"As they will." Dave wrapped an arm around Em and pulled her closer. "So, Derek and Spencer don't want to team with you. That keeps me from trying to figure out how to stay by your side."

Em gave a slight snort. "Should I be afraid?"

"Only if you don't let me touch you once in a while. Otherwise, I might get my BAU Mile High Club Card," he joked.

"Like you don't already have it."

"Not on the BAU jet," he corrected. "Let me touch you."

"I can only think of two times you've touch me out in the field," she commented, "if we start touching now, the team will know."

Dave weighed her words carefully. "I'm not afraid…are you?"

Em considered his question for a long moment. What ever happened between them next relied on her answer.

"No. Not anymore."

Dave drew her face down for a hard, fast kiss that left them both reeling. "Good," he said.

"It's not going to be easy," Em commented on a sigh.

"Nothing good is. Let's just take it day to day."

"Okay." Em snuggled against him. She was comfortably sated and exhausted, but in a good way. As she settled into Dave's arms, she realized she could stop running for the first time in her life.

"Em?" Dave's voice sounded as though it was coming from far away.

"Yes?" Her eyes were so heavy. She was falling fast.

"Thank you for coming back."

"You're welcome," she sighed softly.

Wrapped in each other's arms, they drift off to sleep. Together.


End file.
